THE PUNISHER: FULL CIRCLE
by BLAKKSTONE
Summary: Frank Castle's past catches up to him. And it may very well destroy him. NOW COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**THE PUNISHER: FULL CIRCLE**

_**Disclaimer: The main characters belong to Marvel Comics. They are used without permission, but without the intention of making any money. Reviews would be nice, though.**_

_**Author's note: This takes place after HUNTERS AND KILLERS and ATTACK OF THE VAMPIRE NINJA OF THE YAKUZA. The events in this fanfic take place in the aftermath of those stories.**_

_**Continuity note: This is my take on the Marvel Universe. HOUSE OF M, CIVIL WAR, SECRET INVASION...None of that happened. **_

NEW YORK CITY

ABANDONNED WAREHOUSE

NIGHT TIME

When Frank Castle, The Punisher, woke up, he was bloodied, naked and tied to a metal beam. Tied with barbed wire. There was wire around his chest, his ankles, and his wrists behind the beam behind his back.

Everything hurt.

He had a massive headache. One eye was swollen shut. His ribs were broken. Shattered. There were bits of shrapnel in many parts of his body. One of his knees was destroyed...Who knew what else was damaged...

He'd been ambushed. That much was obvious. But who...

There seemed to be a small crowd in the room with him. He couldn't make out-

A voice interrupted his thoughts: "Wake up, Frankie."

A silhouette in front of him. The voice was familiar.

"Aw, Frankie, old buddy, don't tell me you forgot about me."

Castle's vision was blurry. His head was throbbing with pain. Then he recognized the face, and the voice.

His voice was full of venom when he spoke: "_Jigsaw_. You got your face fixed. Again. You never learn, do you."

"Good old Frank. You're in the worst possible spot, you still got that spunk. Gotta hand it to ya, you're one tough motherfucker. Always were. But I have to correct you, _paisan_. I didn't get my face fixed. More on that later. You're tough...but a bit predictable. Some planted info here, a tip there, pretty soon, you show up. Of course, you're ready. Got enough guns to invade Cuba. Take out dozens of poor bastards. But I knew you'd handle those guys, Frankie. The real challenge came later, when these guys came out of the woodwork."

Out came thugs that Castle recognized instantly.

A man whose cowl and cape was similar to that of Moon Knight's, his mask looked like the grim reaper's, he was also carrying a shield and a sword sheathed on his back.

Taskmaster.

A tall white man, with a crew cut...and a flesh colored M-60 for an arm.

Bushwhacker.

A short man, white, with a weasel-like face, an average sized white man in a dark suit and fedora and huge white man, well over seven feet tall, almost as wide.

Fancy Dan. Montana. Ox. The Enforcers.

A man in read blue tights and mask, holding a boomerang. The assassin known as Boomerang.

"Yeah, Frankie." Jigsaw went on, gloating. "Tough as you are, against all of those guys, especially with most of your ammo spent on the six van loads of _goombahs_ , a couple explosive arrows, boomerangs, concussive grenades, and a few kicks in the ribs and a punch to the head by Ox got the better of you."

Castle remained silent. Of course he remembered the fight. But...This posturing from Jigsaw was going somewhere, this was more than just bragging. There was something else...The Punisher could sense it.

"Now, Frankie, anyone of those guys is fuckin' expensive. And I've been kinda down on my luck lately, until I get a call from some nice people. They tell me, they wanna fix my face, help me fuck you over and make me king of New York. I'm thinkin' that it's fuckin' bullshit, right? Then they name themselves. I just about shit my pants. But I'll let them introduce themselves."

Three people came into the room. A woman in her sixties, a younger man and a woman, both in their 30s, maybe. All dressed in black, tailor made clothes. White, but dark skinned. Like Sicilians.

The old woman spoke first: "Hello, Mr. Castle."

The Punisher searched his memory, came up empty: "I know you?"

The old woman, face twisted in a mix of contempt and hate snorted. "No, but we know you. My name is Rose Fratelli. There are my niece and nephew, Francesca and Bruno."

Castle interrupted: "Fratelli... One of the few women in the Cosa Nostra. You made alliances with existing crews in the old country. Even with the Camorra and other gangs. Gambling, drugs, flesh trade...Political influence and blackmail..."

"That is correct, Mr. Castle." Fratelli cleared her throat and went on. "For many years, we lived in the states, but thirty years ago, a madman decimated our family, so we left and went back home and changed our names. So the madman couldn't find us. In the last decade, we became the most powerful criminal organisation in all of Italy, if not Europe. It took a very long time, but we succeeded. We reached out to Mr. Russo. We fixed his face. Sponsored him. We reminded him of his connection to us."

Castle, confused, caught Jigsaw beaming like a new father, and couldn't-

"We changed our names to Fratelli." The old woman said. "My birth name was Rosa Maria Costa, sister of Bruno and Francesco Costa. Billy Russo's former employers..."

When Castle heard the name-Costa-his mind went into a spiral.

Bruno Costa. Frank Costa.

The people who killed The Castle family thirty years ago in Central Park.

Billy "The Beaut" Russo was one of their enforcers. He wasn't there in the park, but he was one of _them_. Castle put him through a plate glass window back then. For thirty years, they've been trying to kill each other, to no avail.

The Costas killed the Castles when the Castles accidentally stumbled upon a mob hit in a quiet corner of the park. The Punisher was born from that.

He'd destroyed the Costa mob. Wiped them out. He's carried on his war on crime ever since.

The old woman walked over to Castle and spit in his face. The saliva mixed the blood of Castle's face.

"You destroyed my family, you piece of _shit_!" She yelled with decades of pent up fury.

Thirty years worth of hateful venom also came out of Castle's mouth. "Your _scumbag_ brothers destroyed countless families...including mine. For being _in the way_. They _made_ me. So, _fuck_ you. And fuck _them_. The thought of them and their kind roasting in _Hell_ is the only thing that makes me happy these days."

With a vile curse in Sicilian, Rose Fratelli-Costa pulled out a small .22 calibre pistol and put it on The Punisher's forehead and cocked it.

The room tensed up. Rose Costa was trembling with rage. Then she calmed herself, put the safety back on and lowered the pistol.

"No." She said smiling. "I have something better planned for you."

"Boss." Jigsaw said. "Wait. I have guests who wanna see this."

Soon, a door opened and more familiar faces arrived.

A tall Albino dressed in black. Tombstone.

A shorter man, white, in a striped suit and a Spenser Tracy demeanour. His head was flat and also made of solid steel. Hammerhead.

A shorter still, chubby white man, with wild hard and talon like finger nails. The Owl.

All these fucks. One place. At the same time. And Castle was helpless.

Jigsaw was smiling widely again: "See, Frankie pal, no more bullshit turf wars. No more ego trips and fighting over scraps. We're a fuckin' syndicate now. We're gonna be a fuckin' empire soon, 

one big enough to make Wilson Fisk's empire, our beloved fat fuck ex-Kingpin, look like a fuckin'ma and pa diner. And with all the shit that happened in the past year or two, a huge part of the competition has been wiped out. How ya like that?"

Hammerhead spoke : "Look in his eye. If he could get his hands free and grab a gun, he'd fuckin' kill us all. Fuckin' animal."

Then, Tombstone throaty whisper-like voice was heard."You're fucked, Castle. Your luck just ran out."

With a chuckle, Taskmaster pulled out pliers and cut Castle loose. The Punisher collapsed. He tried to get up. He couldn't. One of his arms wasn't working. He heard heavy steps coming towards him.

Ox.

The big Enforcer picked up Castle by the neck and by a leg and brought him down while raising his right knee. Back first.

The Punisher's spine snapped like a twig. He was let go and collapsed like a broken rag doll.

He was still conscious. This was the end. They were going to take their time. But it was going to end like this. He would have preferred a battlefield death. But one rarely had the chance to choose in these matters. A strange calm came over him.

There were cheers and laughter.

Rose Fratelli/Costa walked over to Castle. "There are many kinds of Hell, Mister Castle. You will experience them all _before_ you die."

_Soon, Maria, we will be together again. Soon_.

Castle shut his eye. It would soon be over.

The Owl clapped. "If only it were Daredevil or even Spider-Man, it would have been-"

The skylight shattered and two cylinders fell through.

Bushwhacker yelled: "Flash bangs!"

The world turned white. Then more cylinders. Smoke.

Castle was hearing the world through clouds of cotton. There seemed to be screams and yells, some gunfire. He couldn't feel his legs. He did feel someone carry him.

"Protect the Costas!" He heard Jigsaw shriek.

"Who the fuck is that!" he heard another say.

Coughing. Cursing. Gunshots. Screams. Explosions.

Then The Punisher fell into sweet oblivion.


	2. Chapter 2

MEANWHILE, ELSEWHERE, IN NEW YORK CITY

A VACANT LOT

Detectives Beverly Sykes and Terry Lee were just arrived the site of the latest seemingly gang related massacre. Beverly Sykes was a tallish 30 something, light skinned black woman with long, dark curly hair. Terry Lee was tall black woman as well, but about a decade older, a darker skin tone, shortly cropped hair. Both woman also contrasted in clothing style, Sykes wearing jeans, leather jacket and a plain grey t-shirt. Lee was in a navy blue, jacket and pants business suit.

"Goddamn." Sykes said.

"Yup." Lee said.

There were six burned hulks of metal, that used to be vans and dozens of hacked up, bullet riddled bodies littering the ground.

"I never get used to this stuff..."Sykes said.

"That's probably a good thing, partner." Lee said.

"Gang shit or Punisher?" Sykes asked.

"Let's find out."

"Place looks like it's crawling with suits. FBI?" Sykes wondered.

"Could be IRS. Your taxes paid up?" Lee joked.

As they walked towards the yellow tape, a couple of suits, tall bulky men, blocked their way.

"Sorry, detectives." He said. "It's off limits to NYPD."

"Excuse me?" Lee said. "Under whose authority?"

"The Justice Department, ma'am." G-Man said.

"You mean to tell me that the New York police can't police in New York?" Sykes said incredulously.

"Not in this case. I'm sorry." The G-Man replied.

"The hell's goin' on?" Sykes asked.

Soon, a helicopter was heard.

"Are those the vultures from the media?" Lee asked.

"Those are the people taking over this crime scene." G-Man answered.

"Really?" Sykes said. "Pretty big chopper. Must be a hell of a crew."

The chopper landed in the street, kicking up dust. The rotor slowed down some. A half dozen people that looked like crime scene techs and carrying stainless steel briefcases were led by four people walked out.

Lee and Sykes watched the group, in disbelief.

"That...was not what I was expecting." Sykes said.

The person leading the group was a tallish, athletic black woman with long braided hair tied in a ponytail. She seemed to be in her early 40s, and was wearing black military fatigues under a long trench coat.

Next to her, was an average sized man, a mulatto in his early 30s, dressed casually.

The next two were less casual.

A very muscular white man, well over six feet tall in a black, white and red costume, modelled after that of Captain America. USAgent. He was carrying his circular shield on his arm.

A black man, of similar build, wearing a domino mask, wearing a red, white and blue uniform and carrying his own shield, more similar to Captain America's original shield from World War two. Battlestar.

The group of four approached the detectives and showed them their ID. The woman spoke first.

"Detectives Lee and Sykes. Sorry to barge in on your crime scene. My name is Nefertiti Jones, on loan from SHIELD to the Justice Department. This is detective Kevin Cole, NYPD, also on loan. You might have recognized USAgent and Battlestar."

"And you guys are..."Lee started.

"The latest Punisher Task Force, I guess you could say." Cole answered.

"This is new." Sykes said.

"Huh, you're tellin' me." Cole said. "I just got drafted for this yesterday."

"When did the Justice Department decide to get so serious about capturing Castle?" Sykes said.

"Yeah. I was wondering that too." Lee added.

"Newly appointed attorney general. Disgusted with how 'lax' we are towards vigilantes." Jones said. "Can't say I disagree. Wants to set an example with Castle."

"So...is this the part where you tell us to back off and go eat donuts somewhere?" Sykes said.

"No. That's not how I operate. I used to be a cop. I hated when that happened." Jones said. "Our target is pretty elusive. We need all the help we can get."

"Sounds good." Lee said, relieved.

"Any idea who got shot here?" Cole asked.

"We just got here." Sykes answered.

"Mind if we check out the crime scene?" Cole asked.

"Go right ahead. There's enough work for everybody.

Cole left, followed by the Justice techs and walked among the forensics people and emergency staff.

Jones spoke: "My people are gonna take pictures of the dead guys, see if we can come up with anything in our files."

"Yeah, I get it." Lee said. "If the dead guys are all from the same crew, it's most likely a Castle special, otherwise, it could be an actual episode of what seems to be the eternal New York gang war."

"Bingo." Jones said.

"Sorry, I gotta ask, agent Jones." Sykes said. " Cole's a cop. You're the liaison. What are you guys doing in this outfit?" She asked USAgent and Battlestar.

"We're the tactical support." USAgent said.

"Yeah, we're the brawn." Battlestar said. "Once he's caught, we make sure he stays caught."

"Aren't you two a bit much?" Lee said. "I mean, it's not Dr. Doom we're talking about."

"Don't underestimate him." USAgent said. "I met him once. He's not just a nutcase with a grudge and a gun. He's a smart tactician and he's as tough as they come. I mean look at his track record. How many times he's broken out of Rykers."

"So, no, Agent and I aren't too much, detective." Battlestar concluded.

"Fair enough." Sykes said.

Cole came back before the task force techs. "There's something off here."

"What is it, Cole?" USAgent asked.

"Maybe it's somethin', maybe it's nothin'." Cole started. "But, usually, when Castle pulls this shit, he busts in one some kinda deal. Drugs, guns, something. Nothing but a bunch of dead guys. Lots of dead guys. Too many for the usual deal. And, I dunno...this feels different."

Lee spoke up.: "Maybe it wasn't a deal. Maybe it was a trap. An ambush. They set him up so they could kill him."

Cole, nodding. "That's what I'm thinkin'."

Sykes: "Ok, then who set this up? Who could afford that much manpower?"

Cole: "I guess we'll know that when we ID the dead dudes. They could be out of town talent."

Lee:"We could talk to the FBI, they could give us a list of what crew still has that kinda juice after all the crap that's happened in the past 18 to 24 months."

They all knew what Lee was talking about. Ever since Kingpin's arrest and subsequent disappearance, there's been chaos in the New York underworld. The highest points being the attempted hostile takeover by a Russian gangster, which caused many deaths, in the thousands, including the destruction of One Police Plaza, simply as a diversion. Also, a year later, a hit in a big house in Connecticut. Most of the powerful mob bosses in North America were there. And they were all killed. Along with dozens of lieutenants and captains. Officially, that remained unsolved.

Nefertiti Jones knew the truth, because SHIELD, the super-spy organisation, was investigating at the time: it was a yakuza syndicate. A syndicate of vampires. Literally.

Since then, it's been smaller groups fighting over turf.

Until that night. Dozens of dead henchmen at the same place at the same time.

Finding out who they were would lead finding The Punisher. And ending his war once and for all.


	3. Chapter 3

48 HOURS LATER

NIGHT TIME, CLOSED RESTAURANT IN BROOKLYN

Tombstone, Hammerhead and Owl were sitting a table, having drinks, while Jigsaw was pacing in the restaurant.

"Fuck!" Jigsaw swore. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckin' _fuck_! "

"Relax, Russo." Tombstone said. "You'll ruin your brand new pretty face."

"Yeah." Hammerhead said. "So what if some masked mook rescued the Punisher and killed a couple a nameless thugs. Castle's a fuckin' cripple. Ain't much of threat no more."

Owl finished: "By all means, have a seat, and a drink. We have people looking for him. Bounty hunters, hitmen, a few dirty cops, no need-"

Russo snapped: "None of you fuckers know this asshole like I do. He's a fuckin' threat as long as he's breathin'."

Tombstone sighed, and went on: "Okay. Say he ain't crippled no more. Weirder things have happened. We still have the biggest, baddest crew of killers ever. With the dough brought over from your Sicilian friends, all our resources put together, what can he do?"

Hammerheard took over: "I called some more freelancers. We're setting up designer drug labs all over the place, we even have those A.I.M. freaks providing security for our operations, hardware and manpower. Castle can't-"

There was no reassuring Russo: "How about the guy who helped him, huh? How about that fucker? He took out the four sentinels we had on the roof and just crashed on in. And he just sprayed at us with his Calico. We're lucky we didn't get capped. Fuck, besides his dead fat fuck engineer buddy, Castle never had no friends. But now, what if-"

"Russo." Tombstone said. "You're fuckin' buggin', man."

"Buggin'?" Jigsaw shouted. "You guys have no fuckin' idea."

"Look." Hammerhead said. "We ain't stupid. Graveyards are full of assholes who underestimated this fuck. What we're tryin' to say is: we're ready. We're ready for this cocksucker, let him come and whatever army he can bring. Fuck, let him try."

Someone knocked the special knock. Hammerhead had a Tommy Gun on a table next to him. He grabbed it. Tombstone and Owl got ready. Russo went to see who it was. It was the man they'd send to track Castle. Nearly seven feet tall, muscular and blonde.

Victor Creed.

Sabretooth.

A mutant with enhanced senses, super strong, fast healer and absolutely ruthless when it came to killing. Motivated sometimes by greed, other times by bloodlust, he was perfect for the job. A product of Canada's top secret Weapon X program. A super soldier initiative that was also responsible for Wolverine, Sabretooth's nemesis.

"Nothin'." Creed said. "Your guy is either out of town or hidden deep underground."

"You couldn't a missed anything, you're sure." Jigsaw asked.

Creed looked down at Jigsaw, annoyed, for a second, the others thought something was going to happen, then.: "When I say nothin', I mean nothin'."

The Beaut nodded. He snapped his fingers and a henchman brought him a briefcase. "Here's your cash, Creed. Count it."

"No need." Creed said. "Nobody's dumb enough to try to screw me over. "

"There's more where that came from." Russo said. "Stay on my team."

"Thanks, but no thanks. Got other business." Creed said. And without another word, he left.

"Jesus, what a creepy bastard." Hammerhead said.

"See, Russo?" Tombstone said. "Castle's away for a while. Relax."

"I'll fuckin' relax when he's fuckin' dead and I see his fuckin' carcass with my own fuckin' eyes." Russo said. "But you guys are right. We got an empire to build. Hammerhead, who else did ya get on board as extra muscle?"

"I got Whiplash, Constrictor, Mister Hyde, Rhino, Chance..."

"Chance?" Tombstone said. "Dude with helmet, boot jets and wrist guns? He still alive?"

"Yup. And I got Scorpion, Batroc ..."

"Batroc? Fuckin' Batroc The Leaper? That Frenchie Faggot with the moustache and shit?" Tombstone said.

"That fucker can kick some ass, don't sell him short. Last, but least... Bullseye." Hammerhead said. "That's it so far."

"They know the score?"Russo asked.

"Exclusive with us, assassination and enforcement." Hammerhead said. "You did the impossible, getting all those guys together. Your pitch worked."

"It's a simple one: we keep getting our asses kicked because we act like a bunch of dicks. More pride than brains." Russo said. "Strength in numbers, baby. There's plenty of dough to be made for everybody. Dope. Guns. Whores. Kills for hire. Some old school jobs here and there. Within a year, this city could be ours. The Fratellis-The last of the Costas-they showed me that. I was always a thug, you know, muscle, never much of a thinker. Fratellis taught me different. "

"That explains why you were gone a while." Owl said.

"Yeah. That was a couple of years ago. They reach out to me, say they'll fix my face and help me be a big man. Didn't wanna believe it. They didn't just fix my face, they showed me how to build this. How to create alliances and all that... in exchange of one thing: destroying Castle."

"There are other nuisances as well." Owl said. "Spider-Man, Daredevil..."

"We'll deal with those assholes soon enough." Russo said. "They can't resist sticking their noses in our business. What we did to Castle will feel like a backrub compared to what we'll do to them. But Castle...I need to be sure."

"How can you ensure his demise?"Owl asked.

The man formerly known as Jigsaw thought about it. Then. "We flush him out."

"How do you do that?" Tombstone asked.

Russo smiled. "Hammerhead, contact Bullseye. I gotta job for him."


	4. Chapter 4

ONE WEEK LATER

THE BRONX-ROOFTOPS

Long before she was running away from the law on the city's rooftops, there was a time when Maria Velasquez was a typical girl, living wither father and kid sister, Anna. Back in those days, Anna was the smart and bookish one, Maria was the rougher, wilder one. Also, more physical, excelling in gymnastics and track and field.

Their father, a biochemist loved them both. Said that each inherited a different side of their mother, who'd passed away when they were both too young to remember.

In school, Maria always stood up and protected her sister when he got bullied.

When the both grew into adults, Anna followed in her father's footsteps, working in the scientific field, while Maria joined the army.

Separate destinies for the two sisters.

Anna became as brilliant a scientist as her father.

Maria discovered she had a natural gift with martial arts and weapons, particularly edged weapons. A gift she put to deadly use with cold efficiency.

Then, almost two years before this night, the One Police Plaza blast. Anna and father were together. They both died in the blast.

Maria lost everything in one moment of random insanity, as did many that day.

Filled with hate, rage and guilt, she turned to vengeance. She became a ruthless vigilante. A deadly predator.

She took on the name Tarantula.

She hunted and killed every kind of scum she could find: pimps, pushers, sexual predators..No one escaped her wrath.

She usually cut them with the two short swords she always carried. 13 ¼ short swords from Tanto Cold Steel. She also had retractable blades underneath her booths.

She seldom used guns, sometimes stealing them off her opponents and ditching them. But they came in handy sometimes.

Like five minutes before she was running away. She had just trashed a gang hangout. She killed a dozen of them.

At first.

A good sized firefight erupted. There were to be joined by another half dozen 'bangers. They ran into her instead. More gunfire. A crash. An explosion.

Lots of noise. Bound to attract attention.

Hence her running hell, trying to escape a flying car that was hovering twenty feet above her.

The doors opened and three people jumped out.

She recognized two of them. USAgent and Battlestar. The third one was a mulatto, handsome, close to her age, who landed like a jungle cat.

"Freeze." He said, calmly. "Vigilante Task Force. You're under arrest."

"Come quietly." Battlestar said, "and you will not be harmed."

She stood, defensively, she felt like a trapped animal.

They surrounded her.

The car lowered itself, and a strong looking black woman came out.

"It's over, Maria." She said, her hand on her sidearm. "War's over, baby. Time to end this."

"Who the hell are you people?" Tarantula asked.

"Didn't I just say that?" the mulatto man said. "Didn't I just say Anti Vigilante Task Force? Man, no one listens anymore."

"At ease, Cole." The black woman said. "I'm Agent Jones, I'm with the Justice Department."

Tarantula was still in an aggressive stance. "Goddamn it..."

"Easy, girl, easy." Jones said. "We're not here to hurt you."

"Just wanna lock me up in jail." Velasquez said. "You got these two Captain America wannabes hunting people like me, while those scum I just killed rob and kill, no problem."

"We know you're hurtin', Maria." Jones said. "I can't even say I feel any sympathy for that kind of scum. But murder isn't the way."

"Fuck you." Tarantula said. "How the fuck do you know about my pain?"

"I do." USAgent said.

Maria was startled. She looked at the towering shield wielding super-hero.

"I do." Agent repeated. "I watched as terrorists murdered my parents. I know your pain. The path you're taking, it brings nothing but more pain and more violence. Trust me."

Tarantula kept looking for a way out.

"You can't escape." Agent said quietly. "Come on, give up. Come on."

Maria let her arms down. She couldn't quite have an opinion on the man called Cole. He jumped and landed from that flying car like the other two like it was nothing. Was he enhanced? A mutant?

She was out of her league. She might as well-

Another engine was heard. Another plane? She saw a funky, futuristic looking black aircraft appear seemingly out of nowhere.

Judging by her captor's reactions, it wasn't one of theirs. It dropped a sphere on the feds' car. The sphere broke and this dark slime covered the car. And within second, it became rock solid.

Then smoke came from underneath the craft as it flew over Maria and The Task Force's heads, along with a harness that locked itself onto Tarantula and yanked her away, as the plane flew off. There seemed to be some kind of winch pulling Maria into the weird plane.

USAgent and the others were still coughing and watching helplessly as their mark flew away.

"Well." Cole said. "That was a bit embarrassing."

"That thing just materialized in thin air?" Battlestar asked.

"Must have been cloaked and muffled." Cole said.

"Who the hell was it?" Jones said, coughing.

"I would have thought Moon Knight." Cole said. "But he usually has that Moon shaped thing, and it's silver, not black."

"Then, who?" USAgent asked.

Tarantula was pulled inside, still gasping and coughing. She saw a lone figure piloting the thing.

"Hope that didn't give you whiplash, down there." The voice said. "I had to be quick."

The voice was male, deep. Sounding odd, as if he wearing a helmet.

She pulled out her blades. "Who. Are. You?"

The man pushed a couple of buttons, a voice said, "Auto pilot engaged" and he got up and turned around and faced her. "Tarantula. Maria. I'm not the enemy. But will you allow me to be your friend?"

She blinked. Her vision was still blurry. Then it became clear again. Then she recognized the man.

"You?" She said. "I thought you retired?"

"I did, back in the mid 1990s. But recent events brought me back into the fold."

Maria lowered her blades and sheathed them.

"Good." The man said. "Let me introduce myself properly. I'm not comfortable enough to give you my real name yet, but you can call me Night Thrasher."

The man was wearing his black armour, with truncheons on his wrists she knew could be launched. She also knew that the suit was bullet resistant...and that the man wearing it had skills. Also, the helmet, which looked like a mix of motorcycle and hockey helmets, only had a horizontal sliver barely large enough for his eyes.

"Why did you help me?" Tarantula asked.

"We're on the side of this war." Night Thrasher said. "We should work together. Trying to bring a little justice, a little payback for innocent folks getting hurt out there. "

"Sounds good so far."

"So you'll join us."

"Who's 'us'?"

Thrasher paused. "You'll find out soon enough."


	5. Chapter 5

SOMETIME LATER

UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

Frank Castle opened his eyes, waking up from the usual nightmares. Maria and the kids, bleeding in his arms in Central Park That Day.

He was lying on a bed, with hospital equipment hooked up everywhere.

How long...?

He remembered everything. The ambush. Jigsaw. The surviving Costas. The army of thugs.

He remembered being hurt. Being broken. Somehow, he'd survived. Again. That was his curse. Surviving.

The room was white. Sterile.

His mind felt clear, but he was feeling no pain. Must some kind of powerful anaesthetic he was under. Though, since he was paralysed, maybe he wasn't supposed to feel pain at all.

A door opened, two men walked in. One was white, in his 30s, brown hair, t-shirt, jeans and sneakers. The other, also white, bald, with a white coat.

"Mr. Castle." The brown haired man said. "How're you feeling?"

"I'm not sure. Who're you?"

"In a minute. Try standing up."

"Look. If this is some kind of game-"

"No game. Promised."

Castle knew this guy had to be full of shit. There was no way he could-

Castle could move his legs. He cautiously moved them and looked at them.

Not one scar. Nothing.

Soon, he stood up.

"I told you, no game, Mr Castle."

"Who. Are. You."

The man signalled for the bald guy in the white coat to leave, which he did.

The man cleared his throat. "My name is Nicolas Lone. You may have heard of my father."

Punisher interrupted: "Anton Lone. The Late. At one time, the most powerful crime boss on the West Coast. Power to rival Wilson Fisk's in his heyday."

The man had a look of disgust on his face: "That's right."

"What's this about? You want to take over New York and you need me to do that?"

The man seemed genuinely startled at Castle's words: "Is that what you think? Like father, like son?"

Castle remained silent.

"My father was an evil, greedy sack of shit. I don't want to be anything like him." Lone said.

Castle said nothing, waiting for it.

"You ever head a man called Solitaire, Mr. Castle?"

"A vigilante. Started out in the West. Took out a lot of your father's operations. Moves around a lot." Castle paused. "It's you."

Lone smiled, sadly."Yeah, it's me."

"You pulled me out of that warehouse that night."

"Yes, it was me. Almost a month ago."

Castle paused. "I was under for a month?"

"You were severely injured. It took that long to fix everything."

"Why?"

Lone took a deep breath. "I hate my father. I always have, even after his death. No, I didn't kill him. It's... complicated. Bottom line: I grew up in luxury, spoiled only child of this rich gangster. He treated my mother like a farm animal. He needed her only to breed and give him a son. One day, I couldn't stand it anymore. I committed suicide. Drove my car off a cliff. My father rescued me. Thanks to The Cabal. That bald guy you saw was one of them. They developed sophisticated nanomachines that healed all of my injuries, as if none of it had happened. Hell, it even fixed old injuries prior to the accident. He used the same nanobots that we used to fix you. "

Castle had to admit, he's never felt better physically. He felt like a man half his age. Even younger. As young as when he joined The Corps to go to Nam.

Lone went on: "That was when I trained in combat, put on a mask and became Solitaire."

Castle finished: "You wanted to destroy the evil cause by your father and others like him."

Lone nodded. "Your war started with revenge. Mine, with a search for redemption. Like I had to cleanse the world of all the _shit_ my father did. My father died, but I carried on."

"How did you find me?"

"I wasn't looking for you. I knew that Hammerhead was setting a major meth deal. In following him to nail his buyers, I saw you in that warehouse. "

Castle realized he was in a hospital gown. Lone was a step ahead. "In the closet on your right."

"Thanks."

The closet door was a full length mirror. He paused when he saw his reflection. Not only did he feel younger, he looked younger as well. Fewer wrinkles and scars on his body. He took a second to look at himself. It was like he'd bathed in a fountain of youth. Then, he opened the door and found some clean clothes his size. He put them on.

Back to business.

"Russo and his army. How bad is it?"Castle asked.

"Very bad." Lone said. "A lot has happened, Mr. Castle."

"Never mind the mister. Castle or Frank will do."

"Ok, Frank. Call me Nick. Russo may have assembled what is possibly the most impressive syndicate and in record time."

"Someone is helping him. With money and manpower. The Fratellis from Sicily."

"How do you know?"

"They told me. Fratelli isn't their real name. It's Costa."

"You mean...Like..."

"Yeah."

"Sorry."

"Forget it. This is how they thank him, by giving him the keys to the kingdom. Let me guess. He managed to hire every freak, and psychotic super-fuck he could and has a whole army of them, watching over his operations. The cops and feds are helpless or paid up."

Lone nodded. "Once or twice, one of theirs would be busted. The next day, they would bust him out. And kill a lotta cops in the process. They probably threatened every cop they could and bribed the rest, like you said. No one's touching them."

"That leaves the vigilantes. Guys like us."

Lone paused.

"What is it?"

Lone gave Castle a file.

Castle opened it. He saw pictures of two men, propped up on lamp posts, with chains. Bloodied, bruised, broken.

Spider-Man and Daredevil.

Lone spoke after a moment: "They're dead, Frank."

Castle didn't say a word. His blood turned to ice water. He was always at odds with those two, but this...He never thought...

"Who were they?"Castle asked.

"A photographer for the Bugle and a blind lawyer. The syndicate must have found out their secret ID because all of their friends and relatives are dead too."

It clicked in Castle's mind. Peter Parker. Matt Murdock.

Not friends, by any means, but they didn't deserve this.

How could this have happened?

"How about the rest of the super-heroes? How come they haven't done anything?" Castle said.

"The big super-hero teams are away on some cosmic mission somewhere, is what I heard." Lone said. "Even the Heroes For Hire are gone. "

Castle said nothing. This was a nightmare scenario. The worst.

"And SHIELD's been under attack. A couple of their helicarriers were blown out of the sky and crashed in the East River. They lost hundreds of agents. No news on Fury. No proof it's Russo's gang, but it can't be coincidence. "

Castle didn't reply. Fury. They got to Fury.

"That's not all, Frank." Lone said. "Keep going through the file."

There were more crime scene pictures. Three people. An older man, in his seventies, another man, in his forties, and a blonde woman, in her thirties.

He recognized two of them instantly.

The 40 something man was Eddie Dyson. An ex-cop Castle tried to help fight corruption in his precinct. They ended up killing his family. He became a vigilante called Payback. He had a shirt with The Punisher's skull emblem and red slash across it. He blamed Castle for what happened to his family.

Maybe he was right.

The woman was Lynn Michaels. A cop Castle met while tracking a rapist in Central Park. They became allies and later lovers. She was inspired by him and quit the force. She tried to replace him when he blew up Manhattan Towers in the 1990s to crash a big mob meeting. She couldn't cut it and probably moved back to her father's farm somewhere in the Midwest.

The older man had to be her father.

They were all dead. Most likely to get to Castle, to flush him out of hiding.

Each of those deaths weighed heavily on Castle's conscience. They died because of their connection to him.

"That's how bad it's been, Frank." Lone said, sombre.

Frank closed the files. "You took on the code name Solitaire, right?"

"Yeah, because I was alone." Lone said.

"Me too. Alone. A few times, I had partners. Some of them died. One of them betrayed me. Since, I've been reluctant to work with others, most of time. But on a couple of occasions, I did and it worked. Usually, I run across somebody who wants to kill the same bastards I'm hunting. I can count on the fingers of one hand the times I called on others for help."

Castle turned towards Lone. "Jigsaw has an army, Lone. He managed to scare New York into a stupor. We need an army as well. We have to take this city back."

"Who do you have in mind?"

And Castle told him.


	6. Chapter 6

TWO WEEKS LATER

LOWER EAST SIDE

USAgent, Battlestar, Kevin Cole and Nefertiti Jones were standing over the unconscious and bound bodies of four vigilantes.

One man in a navy costume and cowl, with a red cowl, with a gold insignia covering his chest. The symbol was in the shape of a hawk. The man known as Nighthawk.

Another man, also wearing a mask and a cape, mostly green, with some black and metal gauntlets. Prowler.

Another man, in blue and white costume and mask, with a lightning style pattern and a staff. Cardiac.

A woman, white, black tights, white gloves, silver blonde hair and domino style mask. Black Cat.

"Good job, guys." Jones said.

"You too, Boss." Cole said.

"We have back up coming to pick them up." Battlestar said.

"These vigilante attacks are stepping up." USAgent said. "And they keep attacking in small teams."

"Like they're organized." Cole said.

"Maybe they are." Jones said. "The bad guys are definitely using the 'United we stand' philosophy."

"Not much of a choice, when facing an enemy with numbers on their side." Cole said.

"You condoning this, Cole?" Jones asked.

"If I say yes, you gonna lay the bullshit about law and order, and how we need to rise above this and all that? Spare me."

"I guess it shouldn't surprise me, coming from you. You do have a special insight on vigilantism, don't you?" Jones asked. "It's why I wanted you on my team."

Cole said nothing as he flashed back to a couple of years ago, when his life became extremely complicated.

Detective Kevin Cole, aka Kasper, for his light skin tone, was a narcotics detective in the war zone known as The Mog, for little Mogadishu. He lived with his neurotic Jewish mother and his pregnant, hormonal, borderline hysterical, ball breaker girlfriend. One day, in a dumpster he found something unexpected.

The ceremonial garb of the Black Panther, King Of The Wakandas, well known member of the Avengers. He decided to put it and use it. It was weaved with vibranium, which made it bulletproof.

Black Panther, the real one, found out about it, and after a complicated series of events that amounted to some kind of initiation process mixed with rites of passage, Panther made Cole an acolyte of the Panther Clan. A White Tiger. Panther gave Cole the special herbs that allowed him to be faster, stronger and have sharper senses than the average guy.

As the White Tiger, and even before, Cole has clashed with a powerful syndicate that had its roots in the Mog, but extended a powerful web of corruption across the country and parts of the world called the 66 Bridges.

During that time, a crack whore was thrown out a window and killed. She turned out to be the sister of one James Rhodes, from Stark Enterprises. Not taking kindly to his sister being killed, Rhodes, or "Rhodey", started rampaging through the Mog, looking for payback.

Cole met up with Rhodey, another guy called Junta, former CIA Agent with gravity powers with his own issues with the 66 Bridges and a street minister of the Nation Of Islam called Josiah X.

Josiah X turned out to be the son of what was believed to be a myth.

The Black Captain America.

The very first man to be subjected with the super-serum. Back in the day, negro soldiers were considered expendable, hence why they made perfect test subjects. Josiah's dad was left brain damaged by the experiment. It was then tweaked and then given to the Captain America know to all these days.

Josiah X inherited his dad's skills, and had his own sense of right and wrong.

So all four of them-Cole, Josiah X, Junta and Rhodey-brought down the 66 Bridges cartel using vigilante tactics.

After that, Cole's son was born-he was now three years old-and life went on.

Until Nefertiti Jones showed up at his door drafting him for a special task force to nail vigilantes, starting with The Punisher. When Cole asked why, Jones told him: "You're tough, you're smart and you have special understanding about how a guy like Castle would operate. Sure you do...White Tiger."

Implicit threats of black mail, and a nice monetary compensation, including a college fund for Cole's son, got Cole roped in to this thing.

Soon, a hover craft showed up, shaking Cole out of his reverie.

"You listening, Cole?" Jones asked.

"What?" Cole asked.

Agent answered: "We were wondering who was behind these guerrilla-style vigilante attacks on The Super-Syndicates' operations."

"Isn't that what you costumed types do?" Cole asked. "Form teams, give out decoder rings, give secret handshakes go fight evil and shit?"

"Very astute observations, Cole." Battlestar said. "Anything more constructive?"

"Look, most of the big heroes are still gone in space doing whatever, right?" Cole said. "It must be someone with leadership and money and that these masked dudes would trust."

"Why money?" Jones asked.

Armoured Guardsmen came out of the hovercraft to pick up the captured heroes.

Cole went on after the Guardsmen were finished."Because if you're gonna have little cells like these guys seem to have, and little bunkers all over town, you need organisation, motivation and funds."

"I think you got something there." Jones said. "Good thinking."

USAgent slapped Cole on the back. "Not bad. You should be a detective or something."

"Har-dee-fuckin'-har." Cole said.

"Back to HQ, people, let's look at suspects." Jones said.

"Uh, guys." Battlestar said.

"What is it, big man?" Jones asked.

"We captured a lot these masks, most of them don't even kill their targets. So, thinking back to our primary objective...Am I the only wondering where the Hell Punisher is?"

MEANWHILE, ABANDONNED GARAGE IN BROOKLYN

The Punisher remained low key for the past couple of weeks after his rescue and miracle recovery, thanks to Lone. He read up on some other vigilante initiative trying to hurt what was being called The Super-Syndicate.

Operations trashed. Thugs knocked out and tied up for the cops.

Not how Castle did things.

He was curious as to who could be behind that group.

He needed a group of people that shared his methods and philosophy about how to wage this war. Solitaire, in full navy blue and purple costume, with his mask on, was next to him, waiting for the guests.

Lone told Castle that he still had the nanomachines in him to help him heal, and that he bought bioenhancements-to increase strength and speed- from a company called Nu-Ware owned by J.D. Hunt, a Stark-level tycoon and defense contractor.

He offered the same to Castle. The Punisher declined. No need to cheat death with fancy artificial healing powers. When his time would come, he would let it happen. Besides, already he was in the best shape of his life thanks to the nanotech that helped him from his many wounds.

Lone, being a multi-billionaire had some nice toys and equipment. Castle was wearing some sort of ultra-light form-fitting Kevlar armour, with steel plates in the chest area, over which he wore a black body suit with his trademark skull emblem, lined with vibranium to absorb impact from bullets and shrapnel.

It also turned out that the place where Castle's been unconscious for a month while healing was several floors underground. A subterranean bunker, one of many if Castle were to believe Lone.

And he did.

Castle trusted Lone, which was saying a lot. The man seemed to be carrying the world's sins on his shoulders and dedicated to annihilating evil caused by men like his father. And he had no problem with killing his enemy.

Strange that two men following the same path expected opposite things from it. Lone was looking for some kind of redemption, atonement, Castle knew he was damned forever.

But they had similar objectives. That was all that mattered.

Very soon, the proximity alarm went off and two of Castle's guests arrived. He watch the cars show up on monitors, hooked up to hidden cameras outside the garage.

The garage door opened and two cars rolled in. One typical, non-descript four door and a black Hummer.

The man that came out of the four door was a white man, about 6'2", solid build, brown hair. He had a vertical scar on his left eye. He had a green sports coat over black clothes. Alec Swan. Private detective in Pasadena. Former British Special Forces. Code name: Firearm.

The other one looked quite different. He was also tall and muscular, but dressed less conservatively. He was in what looked like a police uniform, but he wasn't a police officer, by an means. He was wearing a face plate and what looked like a patrolman's hat. He took of the mask and hat. What Castle saw was a white man, tough features, short crew cut dirty blonde hair.

He seemed to be packing a big automatic on his right hip.

Former Houston Police Officer Bart Gallows. Also known as Americop.

Castle approached both men.

"Well, Frank." Swan said. "Nice place you have here, old boy."

Castle and Swan only met once, a while ago, over Yorkie Mitchell's grave in England. Yorkie used to be an all of Castle's until a psychotic mercenary called Barracuda murdered him and his wife in his own home. Castle met Yorkie in the Hell of Vietnam. Mitchell owed Castle his life. Yorkie's been repaying Castle with intel.

And it got him killed.

Castle and Swan exchanged words and had a drink in Yorkie's honor. The gauged each other and realized they weren't enemies.

Gallows gave Castle a curt nod. Castle returned it. A man of a few words, Castle thought. Good. He knew the score and his presence spoke volumes.

Americop had a reputation not unlike The Punisher's: ruthless, wanted by the law, clashed with some of the do-gooder heroes, never harmed civilians, usually remained on the same turn, in his case, Texas. No history of tragic loss that would have triggered his war, just anger and frustration at a failing justice system.

Good enough reason.

Another proximity alert rang out. A hover-car de-cloaked and landed. SHIELD issue. It landed on its wheels and rolled into the garage.

Of course, those two would have answered the call, Castle thought as they came out of the car.

Two women. White.

One in a skin-tight black jumpsuit, reddish auburn hair, and wrist guns. The Black Widow.

The other, wearing what looked like a red one piece swimsuit, knee high boots, also red, a bandanna and wrist bands, also read. She a darker complexion and long black curly hair. Elektra.

Both Widow and Elektra looked at Castle, silently. Yes, the super-syndicate was ruthless and needed to be smashed, this was also very personal for both of them. Castle knew it. Both had relationships with Daredevil. No words were necessary. The Punisher knew all too well what they were feeling. And they wanted to do those responsible for those feelings.

A few minutes later, what would be the final arrival showed up. Very low-key, in a black Lincoln. Castle saw who it was, and let them in.

Three people stepped out of the car.

A young woman, in her late 20s, Latina, long black hair, black tights and short swords on her hips. Tarantula.

The one driving was The Night Thrasher. Castle's worked with him a couple of times in the 1990s, rumour had it that he retired. Seemed like he changed his mind.

Last, but not least, a man in silver garb, including cape and cowl. With a crescent Moon on his chest. The Moon Knight.

Swan whistled: "Interesting cast of characters, there, Frank. Blimey, I'm star-struck."

No one returned comment.

Castle spoke: "Thanks for coming. I'll be brief. I want to kill Jigsaw. I want to kill every single member of his super-syndicate. I want his organisation reduced to ashes. I can't do it alone. I need your help. Do I have it?"

Swan raised his hand. "Nice inspiring speech, Coach. But I want to be sure of what we're talking about. An army of super-villains, an army of regular blokes, cops in their pockets..."

Punisher: "Backed by powerful Sicilian Gangsters. The Fratellis."

Night Thrasher spoke up: "Not to mention AIM technology and manpower."

Swan nodded. "Right, those wankers too. This is a fuckin' suicide mission."

Moon Knight: "Most of them are, Swan."

Swan: "You heard of me? I'm flattered." Swan sighed. "I must as mad as the lot of you. Count me in, Frank."

Punisher: "Thanks, Swan."

Swan: "Anyone still alive afterwards, pints are on me."

Moon Knight to Punisher: "Castle. Thrasher and I tried a vigilante guerrilla. We managed to collect some Intel, but most of our people got nailed by this new Task Force. Thrasher, Tarantula and I are all that's left."

Punisher: "It will have to be enough. You all know Solitaire?"

Everyone nodded. Solitaire waved at them.: "Hi."

Punisher: "He'll be joining us too. You may have heard rumours about my death. He helped a lot to much sure they were false." Castle looked at Thrasher and Moon Knight. "This is strictly seek and destroy. We kill the enemy. Anyone has problem with that?"

Thrasher, voice cold as a guillotine's blade: "No."

Moon Knight: "No."

Punisher: "Where's your legionnaire buddy, Spector?"

There was a silence. Then Moon Knight answered: "He...He's dead. He was killed in the One Police Plaza blast. Along with my girlfriend, Marlene." Another pause. "Don't worry about Thrash and me, Frank. Kid gloves are off. For this gig, we'll do what we have to."

Punisher looked at Tarantula's eyes, she didn't flinch, blink or back down. Pure killer. "Good." He turned to Widow: "How's Fury doing?"

Widow: "He's trying to rebuild SHIELD. He's been through worse. When I offered him my help, he told me. Quote: 'Find Castle and go kill those fuckers.' End quote."

Punisher looked at Elektra in the eye. She looked back. She radiated with murderous bloodlust. A greek angel of death. She didn't say anything and didn't need to.

Punisher nodded."All right, then. Let's go to war."

_**Author's notes:**_

_**Kevin "Kasper" Cole is not an OC. Neither is Nefertiti Jones. You can find out more about them, and BATTLESTAR and NIGHT THRASHER as well, at , Marvel section.**_

_**The One Police Plaza blast refers to an event that took place in my previous fanfic HUNTERS AND KILLERS. That is of my own creation.**_

_**Solitaire and Firearm are characters from the ULTRAVERSE, which has been acquired by Marvel in the 1990s. A Wikipedia search will help you find out more about them. The dollar bins at your local comic books store as well.**_


	7. Chapter 7

MANHATTAN SKYSCRAPER

A WEEK LATER

Some things never changed.

Billy Russo, formerly known as Jigsaw, was on top of the world, like Kingpin once was.

And The Fratellis give him a skyscraper, to tower over his kingdom.

Okay, maybe kingdom was a bit much. Let's say, turf. Keep shit simple.

He took a Havana cigar out of a box on his desk and lit it up. Oh, yeah.

In less than two months, he took control of this city. And the absent super-heroes was just a bonus and made it that easier.

He also knew that killing Spider-Man and Daredevil must have broken a lot of people's spirit. Including the cops and feds, who were being blackmailed, bribed and intimidated into submission.

And thanks to a couple mutant suicide bombers, even SHIELD was hurtin'. Russo knew it was temporary, it gave him time to make his army stronger.

There was still something nagging in the back of his mind.

Punisher. Frank Castle.

Unlike for Spider-Man and Daredevil, he didn't have a corpse. And though, at his partners' request, he tried to shut the fuck up about it, the concern was still there.

He tried to push it out of his mind.

Hammerhead walked in his office.

"Russo." He said, he was holding his file. "Look at this."

Hammerhead dropped the file on Russo's desk. Russo nodded at the box of cigars and Hammerhead helped himself.

"A few guys getting released from the Vault, huh? The Wrecking Crew, The Death Throws, Shocker, Tiger Shark, Gibbon, Armadillo, Hobgoblin...and that nutcase Kraven JR." Russo noted.

Hammerhead made a perfect circle of smoke. "Yeah, more muscle?"

"Sure. Set up a meet with them."

"I'll talk to 'em."

"Don't go yourself. Send someone to talk to them. One of our captains."

"Jesus, Billy, you still paranoid over Castle?"

"I keep tellin' you guys-"

"Yeah, yeah, we don't know him like you do. You know somethin'? I think he wrecked more than your face, Billy. He fucked with your mind too."

"He probably did. But it don't hurt to be cautious, OK?"

"Fine. You should get a broad in here. I heard there was this mutant whore who could change cum into beer."

"What?"

"No shit. She blows you, swallows, and when she pisses, it comes out as beer. Most fucked up thing you ever saw, apparently. She can piss out a decent pitcher of brew. Heard it tasted like Corona."

Russo chuckled. "That's bullshit."

"At least I got you to laugh, didn't I? Loosen up, man."

"I dunno..."

"Look, Castle's probably only part of what's fucking with your head. You're from the streets, like me , like Tombstone. Never had it good. Never in charge of shit. Worked for a few guys that ended dead or in jail. Tried to make it big, get a few big scores and it never worked out. And there was your face. Now, you have all of this, and you don't wanna lose it all because of some dumb shit mistake. You don't wanna end up like all the other assholes that underestimated Castle."

"We shouldn't a played games with him. We should have plugged him."

"If he comes back, don't worry, we'll kill the motherfucker."

"Yeah. Ok. Set up the meet with the Wrecking Crew and the rest of them. Make sure we're paid up so cops don't run interference. Don't fuck around with security."

"Relax, Russo. It's under control."

Hammerhead walked out. Russo's phone rang.

"Yeah."

"Mr. Russo."

"Ma'am." It was Rose Fratelli.

"I hear you're doing wonders over there, better than expected."

"Moving lotsa products, numbers are good."

"And the competition?"

"Not much of it to speak of, boss."

"And what about the...pest problem?"

Russo knew she meant The Punisher.

"Our best exterminators are on the job." Russo said. "That particular pest hasn't surfaced yet."

"Keep us posted."

"I will."

And she hung up.

Russo could never tell when she was happy or pissed. But she knew the type: if she wasn't happy, there woulda been threats and shit, which hasn't happened yet.

But Castle...

Maybe Hammerhead was right. Maybe calling up a couple whores would relieve the stress.

SAME DAY, NIGHT TIME

A BAR WITH NO NAME

The members of the Wrecking Crew-Bulldozer, man with the armoured head; Pile Driver, man with huge fists; Thunderball, the man who wields a huge demolition ball and chain and Wrecker, the man with the indestructible crowbar-were sipping on drinks.

Shortly thereafter, the Death Throws, a sort of lethal circus act, showed up.

Ringleader, juggler of razor sharp rings; Oddball, who specialized in throwing seemingly harmless spheres that were quite lethal in reality: explosive, gas, acid and more; Bombshell, the only woman in the team, specialized in explosives; Knickknack, who threw all sorts of sharp objects, from knives, to chainsaws and Tenpin who tossed tricked out throwing pins.

Then, there was Shocker, in his trademark yellow battlesuit and vibration gadgets, Tiger Shark, a towering muscular man in red and grey tights and a fin on his head, Armadillo whose armour resembled his namesake (much like Rhino), Gibbon, a man as strong, fast and ugly as a gorilla Hobgoblin, in full Goblin costume and Kraven Jr, dressed like his lethal and psychotic deceased father.

They all knew why they were there and who called them there.

Russo's Super-Syndicate.

Madame Masque showed up. A tall athletic woman, she dressed in black overalls, and work a chromed mask.

"Greetings all. I come on the behalf of Mr. Russo. He wished to have you join his new organisation."

"Did I hear right?" Shocker asked. "Is Spider-Man dead?"

"You heard right, Shocker." Madame Masque answered. "This is a new life for you, no more petty crimes, no more humiliation at the hands of the so called heroes. You will no longer be alone. You will have the full strength of Mr. Russo's consortium with you at all times. Will you join us?"

The small crowd agreed.

Madame Masque nodded. "First order of business-"

The barfront plate glass window shattered and Madame Masque's upper body exploded into a crimson paste of destroyed internal organs, flesh, blood and bone.

A few seconds later, her mask fell among her remains.

Shocker started: "What the-" And he met a demise similar to Madame Masques.

Many of the bar's patrons were startled and took a defensive stance, while being covered with blood and viscera.

Then they looked at the shattered plate glass window.

"Oh, no." Oddball said.

The Punisher was standing. Alone. Holding what looked a three barrelled mini-gun.

"Are you kidding me?!" Thunderball said. "We outnumber him and we have powers! We can take this guy!"

"Let's go!" Gibbon shouted.

The Punisher opened fire.

Frank Castle knew they would underestimate him. All they would see is a lone man, with no powers, holding an ordinary weapon.

They'd be two-thirds right.

The weapon was anything but ordinary. It was part of Solitaire's purchases. Ultra-light, pivoting barrels, 30 rounds per second.

It fired 20 mm rounds. A mix of Adamantium tips and high explosive rounds.

The Punisher never smiled. But if he did, this would be it.

As the villains were thing of rushing him, he opened fire.

The entire Death-Throws team was hacked into bits of ground meat.

Then came the Wrecking Crew.

Those guys went toe to toe with the likes of Thor.

Still, they were no match with 30 round per second onslaught of armour piercing and grenade rounds.

Bulldozer was decapitated.

Piledriver watched his hands explode before his chest was blown out.

Wrecker watched his arms being cut off, as he was charging, holding his crow bar above his head.

Thunderball was swinging his huge demolition ball, when Castle shot the chain. The ball flew at Gibbon who was squashed against a brick wall. Thunderball was blown in half by The Punisher's chain gun.

Armadillo tried to run away.

The Punisher shot him in the back, reducing him into a pulp.

Hobgoblin blasted out of the bar, on his glider, holding a pumpkin bomb in each hand. His glider was destroyed by a burst of 20mm death bringers. Hobgoblin fell, his bombs fell on him and blew him up.

Tiger Shark tried to rush The Punisher and was cut in half by a vertical sweeping burst.

That left only Kraven Jr.

He came out of hiding.

"You coward, you ambush us, shoot us in the back!" He taunted. "Where is your honour? You call yourself a hunter?"

"No. "Castle said. "I call myself The Punisher."

And The Punished ended that conversation and Kraven.

He turned towards his van. There was a terrified black man tied up in the back. Turk, the infamous snitch.

"Your tip was worth something after all, Turk. Thanks."

"You let me go, now, right?"

The Punisher pulled out a knife. Cut the man loose.

"Yeah, with one message for your new boss, Russo."

"W-What is it?"

"This...was only the beginning."

The Punisher tossed Turk out drove away.

If Turk couldn't get the message through, the sight of a dozen or so dead superfucks would be eloquent enough.

He had a communication ear piece much like the Secret Service's

"This is Rook to all Knights." He said. "Delivery successful. Moving to other packages."

He was wondering how the others were doing.

--

In a dojo uptown, Taskmaster was doing something that was familiar to him.

Training assassins.

He had two dozen students, some baseline humans, some mutants with increased strength and speed, all killers who wanted to learn more about the art of murder.

It was fine by him.

Suddenly, the skylight was smashed. And three figures followed the pieces of broken glass.

"Aw, crap." Taskmaster said.

Elektra, Widow and Tarantula.

"School's out, motherfuckers." Tarantula said. Holding a short sword in each hand. Elektra had her sais, Widow had bowie knives.

"Kill them!" Taskmaster shrieked.

As they rushed them, Taskmaster could have sworn he saw that crazy Elektra bitch smile.

And the fight was on.

Americop drove his armoured Hummer right through the abandoned plant's front gates.

The plant didn't seem so abandoned when he saw all the henchmen coming at him with submachine guns, whose bullets were bouncing off harmlessly of the Hummer.

One of Russo's designer drug labs.

The back of the Hummer folded up and a .50 cal Browning machine was deployed.

He grabbed his radio and activated his truck's speakers.

"You want some? Come get some, you sorry sacks of shit!"

Dozens of 700 grain bullets were tearing into the army of thugs as Americop ran over more of then, committing mass vehicular homicides.

--

Solitaire, Moon Knight, Night Thrasher and Firearm were in a gutted supermarket.

It was being used as a weapons plant and warehouse.

They each entered a different section of the plant.

Firearm had taken out the sentinels on the roof.

They were setting up C-4 charges all over the plant. Keeping to the shadows, and using stealth.

There were dozens of armed guards on location, along with villains Blizzard, Whiplash and Beetle.

It was a good plan.

Until Mr. Murphy and his pesky law interfered.

Solitaire was caught by guard, smoking where he wasn't supposed to.

A throwing knife in the throat ended that threat...

"Smoking kills." Solitaire whispered.

...but a post mortem spasm squeezed his shotgun's trigger.

So much for stealth, Solitaire though.

He had two 9mm Calico m950s slung on his shoulders. He grabbed one in each hand, he started running for the nearest exit. As he turned a corner, he was face to face with a half dozen thugs. Without slowing down, he jumped, using his enhanced strength to leap over his enemies and strafe them from above with his twin Calicos. He landed before they all dropped dead in boneless heaps.

While heading for his own escape route, Night Thrasher was faced with the armoured Beetle.

"Well, well, well. Night Thrasher." Beetle started. "Seems like you and I are gonna-"

"Shut up." Thrasher said, throwing a magnetized disk at Bettle.

Small EMP charge. Electromagnetic pulse. Fried and shut down Beetle's armour.

"You...you..."Beetle said.

"I told you-" Thrasher said, knocking off Beetle's helmet with a vicious uppercut. "To shut up." Thrasher's fist ruthlessly smashed Beetle's exposed face in.

A cluster of armed men showed up behind Thrasher. He quickly grabbed the fallen Beetle, yanked him around and used him as shield as they fired. A round took half of Beetle's head off. Thrasher had a remaining C-4 charge left. He set it for three second and threw it at the guards with one hand, launching a grappling hook from his other hand. He was already several feet off the ground when the charge went off, killing the group of men.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the complex, Firearm hosed down four hired killers with his silenced HK MP-5. And kept running, until something yanked his weapon out of his hands.

"Ow, fuck sakes, what the-" Swam started.

Then he was faced with Whiplash. Dressed in black tights, black cowl, with a purple cape.

"Fuck me." Swan said.

"You're not my type. Who the fuck are you?"

"Oh, I'm just the butler, can't you tell with my accent? Care for a spot of tea?"

"No thanks, Jeeves. I'll settle for ripping out your spine."

Swan knew that his Titanium whip could cripple and kill, and also send electric charges.

While he was ducking the first strike, Swan managed to pull out a 9 mm 93-R Beretta, but the villain quickly recovered and struck it with his whip, almost shattering the machine pistol.

Swan backtracked.

_For this I gave up a peaceful life taking naughty pictures of cheating wives in Pasadena_, Swan thought, dodging another strike.

Firearm looked behind him.

"Is that is then, you cunt? You winded yet?"

"You limey fuck!" Whiplash shouted and struck again.

Swan ducked sideways, while the metal whip strung the building's power box. Killing the lights.

Swan put on his night vision goggles.

Maybe the villain's gloves were isolated, so Swan wasted no time, he pulled out another 9mm Beretta Machine Pistol and fired a short burst at Whiplash's head.

"What a shocking end to that whippersnapper." Swan mused and ran off.

During that time, Moon Knight was just finishing bashing a thug's head against a steel beam.

Then, he faced Blizzard.

"Huh. So the B-listers didn't get to go to space, huh?" Blizzard said.

"You're not exactly Dr Doom yourself, Snowcone." Moon Knight retorted.

"I don't need to be to ice your sorry ass."

Moon Knight's reflexes allowed him to dodge a freezing ray. "Jesus. Your bad puns are deadlier than your powers."

"Wasn't a pun, asshole. You're going down."

Then the lights went out.

Moon Knight, whose eye slits had infrared lenses, wasted no time and leapt at Blizzard. He leap became a flying sidekick into Blizzard's solar plexus, followed with a chop to the throat when Blizzard was on his back.

And it was over.

A minute later, Solitaire, Night Thrasher, Firearm and Blizzard were outside. Each was holding a remote control and they all detonated the charges they'd set inside.

"Bloody good show, boys." Swan said.

"Show's not over yet." Solitaire said. "Come on, we have more work to do."

--

Americop drove away from his target, leaving smouldering ashes and perforated bodies.

Next.

--

Tarantula, Elektra and Widow stood amid two dozen hacked up bodies.

"Taskmaster got away!" Tarantula said.

"We'll get another shot at him, kid." Widow said. "Don't worry."

"More." Elektra whispered. "I. Want. More."

"Soon, Elektra." Widow said. "Soon."

--

LATER THAT NIGHT...

When the Light Anti-tank Weapon's rocket connected with the trailer truck, the apocalyptic explosion that followed confirmed to Punisher that it was transporting A.I.M. weaponry.

Standing on the roof of a nearby warehouse looked up the carnage he'd wrought.

Over two dozen thugs wasted and millions in AIM tech wrecked.

This was starting to be a good night, The Punisher thought.

As he was beginning to walk away, a hovercar materialized above him and four silhouettes surrounded him.

USAgent. Battlestar. And two other agents. A black woman and a mulatto man.

"Surrender, Castle." The woman said. "You're under arrest."

"Don't make it difficult, Frank." USAgent said.

"Agent." Castle said. The Agent was less wild and anger driven than last time they'd met over a decade ago.

Which made him harder to manipulate.

The young mulatto man was dangerous. Castle could sense it. The woman was strong and confident. Not a rookie by any means.

"So you're the Task Force." Castle said.

"And you're the target." The woman said. "Weapons down, hands up."

"No."

"Excuse me?" The woman said.

Agent, Battlestar and the other guy were battle ready. The woman was genuinely surprised.

"I said: no. I have work to do." Castle said.

"You mean people to murder." Battlestar said.

"You worked with Silver Sable for a while." Castle said. "She doesn't shy away from killing either."

"Enough." The woman said. "We don't want to hurt you, Castle. But we will. So, give up."

"I give up, and Russo's won. And you know it." Castle said.

"And we should leave it to you and other vigilantes to save us, right?" The woman said.

" My way works." Castle said."It's all that matters."

"Does it?" The female agent said. "But maybe your way got us in this mess in the first place, ever thought of that? Have you ever thought that maybe killing all those gangsters would create these holes that cause these gang wars?"

"Enough of this shit!" The mulatto man said. "Castle, give up or-"

The Punisher pulled a frag grenade from his vest and tossed it at the lady fed and the young cop.

"Holy shit!" The young man said and he ducked, and so did the lady fed.

Agent and Battlestar raised their shields in anticipation of the blast. The Punisher ducked and rolled, pulling out his dual Colt .45 pistols and shot both Agent and Battlestar in their exposed thighs, trying to avoid bones and arteries. And he ran as both super-soldiers collapsed.

He tossed an EMP disk at their hover car. It shorted out the car's system and it stopped hovering. It crashed several stories below. He then jumped off the roof of the warehouse onto his van's roof. His vibranium battlesuit absorbed the impact. He rolled off the van's roof onto the ground, got into the van and drove off.

That was close. Too close.

--

Cole got back up. And approached the grenade.

"Motherfucker..."He said.

"He didn't take out the pin." Jones said.

"Bastard..."Agent said.

"You guys OK?" Jones said.

"He got us good." Battlestar said. "Got us to raise or shields, so he could shoot our legs. Didn't hit anything major. Stings like a son of a bitch. But he knew we could take it and recover."

"He'll be ready next time." Cole said.

"So will we, Cole. So will we." Jones said.

Castle touched base with his partners.

They succeeded in their various missions.

Not a bad start, The Punisher thought. Not bad at all.


	8. Chapter 8

LATER THAT NIGHT,

THE VIGILANTES UNDERGROUND BUNKER

The Punisher and his allies met back at HQ, Solitaire's underground place.

Everyone was there, all in one piece.

They met in the conference room.

The Punisher started: "We hurt Russo tonight. He lost money, merchandise and manpower. We did some good work. Each unit took out three or four targets tonight. Thanks to Moon Knight's and Night Thrasher's Intel."

Night Thrasher: "Yeah, about that." He removed his helmet. "When we're not out there killing gangsters, you can call me Dwayne."

Night Thrasher was a black man, in his 30s, smooth handsome features, shortly cropped hair, no facial hair. Nothing in his face gave away the fact that he was a brutal vigilante. Except a certain sadness in his eyes. Dwayne Traylor. Millionaire. CEO of Traylor Industries. Former leader of young heroes, the New Warriors, in the 1990s. Most of whom were off world with the others.

The Punisher went on: "I also met with the Task Force tonight. Barely got away. Anybody has anything on those guys?"

Black Widow: "That I can help you with, maybe. I heard about that before this insanity began. Besides USAgent and Battlestar, you have veteran SHIELD agent Nefertiti Jones. Former LAPD cop, recruited into SHIELD. Fears nothing and no one. Tough. Smart. Strong morals. On loan to the justice department. And you probably met Kevin Cole. Young mulatto man?"

Punisher: "Yeah. What's his story? There's something about him..."

Black Widow: "You heard of the 66 Bridges. Went from street gang to huge crime syndicate? He brought it down, with some accomplices, as White Tiger."

Punisher:"So, he's the White Tiger."

Black Widow: "Not THE White Tiger, but THAT White Tiger. A sort of junior Black Panther."

Americop: "So that Cole guy is a masked hero or somethin'? How does he get recruited into huntin' down others like him?"

Black Widow: "Promise of money and blackmail, probably."

Swan: "You sure about that, luv?"

Spector: "You used to be a spook, Swan. What do you think?"

Swan:"Touché."

Tarantula: "So..SHIELD knows the heroes' IDS?"

Widow: "Kid, you think Fury would let a bunch of demi-Gods run loose without keeping tabs on them?"

Tarantula: "Guess not. Big Brother lives."

The Punisher looked at Elektra. She was silent. Stoic. Inside herself. Detached. Sullen. Was she mourning Daredevil? Or was she just itching to kill some more?

Americop: "So...That Task Force sounds heavy duty."

Black Widow: "And they have some armoured GUARDSMEN as back up now. Maybe you heard, they did round up a lot of masks recently."

Punisher: "We have to maintain the pressure on Russo. But tonight, get rested. Anybody wanna add something?"

Silence. "That's it, then."

Later on, Solitaire, out of costume, approached Castle.

"For such a hardass loner, you make a hell of a team leader."Lone said.

"Maybe." Castle said. "Maybe the loner thing has run its course. There's no way I could have done as much tonight alone. For whatever good it does."

"What do you mean?"

"That agent Jones. She said something. Maybe that the way we do things makes the situation worse."

"I don't see how. Before, during and after Fisk's reign, this city's been shaken by gang wars. Even way before, in the prohibition days. And I've witnessed similar things back home with my father first hand. Vacuum or not, scum like that will always find a way to take it out on innocent people. Or on their own families. Trust me. Getting rid of them gives people hope that there is still something called justice. With what happened to Spider-Man and Daredevil, the people need it, now more than ever."

"Thanks, Lone."

"Yeah. Later."

Lone went off to rest. Castle went to the shooting range. Target shooting always relaxed him.

He'd emptied a few magazines. He felt-

"Restless?" A voice said.

It was Elektra. She'd managed to surprise him.

"No more than usual." Castle said.

"I wish I could say the same."

Castle looked at her.

"Daredevil's death hit you harder than you expected." He said.

Another voice.: "You too?"

Black Widow.

Punisher: "He was a warrior. He knew the risks. But not his friends and family." Silence. "Arrogant, self righteous bastard."

Black Widow: "Self-centered. Moody. Impulsive. Takes people for granted. Took. Took people for granted."

Elektra:"Noble."

Widow and Castle nodded.

Punisher: "Yeah. He was a good man. Our side lost a hell of a soldier."

Black Widow: "And, for all of his flaws, I know deep down that if something happened to me, or Elektra, he wouldn't stop until he died or caught whoever was responsible."

Elektra: "That is true." Silence. "He _was_ a good man. The best part of me." Another pause. "We owe it to him to do this thing."

Punisher: "Yeah. We do."

There was a silence. Then:

Punisher: "Spider-Man was a good kid as well. Big heart."

Black Widow: "Ballsy little twerp. Big loss. For everyone in this city." Silence: "All those deaths...This can't go unpunished."

Punisher:"No. It can't."

EARLY, THE FOLLOWING MORNING

RUSSO'S SKYSCRAPER

"Motherfucker! Cocksucking fucking motherless asshole! Fuckin' piece of shit!" Russo bellowed.

Taskmaster was in front of Russo while he was raving like a maniac. Unimpressed. A few wounded thugs were there too.

"Sorry about the bad news, boss." Taskmaster said. "Castle's alive. And he has friends."

"Aw, fuck." Russo grabbed his head with two hands. "Son of a fuckin' whore, I knew it. I knew it! Christ!"

"Anything else, boss?" Taskmaster said.

"Get security reinforced on what's left standing!" Russo said."Try to find those fucks! Go!"

Taskmaster and the thugs walked out. Hammerhead, Owl and Tombstone walked in.

"They hurt us prey bad, Russo." Hammerhead said, "No denyin' that."

"They really fucked us up." Tombstone added." Must have lost close to three hundred guys. Our boys, plus AIM guys. And a half dozen dope plants. And weapons."

"And a few our special enforcers." Owl went on."We lost a good measure of manpower. Madame Masque and the people we were looking to hire as well."

"Find this fuck! And whoever the fuck is helping him! Find them and kill them!" Russo shrieked. "I don't care how or where! Fuckin' kill that fucker!"

"Jesus, Russo..." Hammerhead said. "Take it easy, you're gonna..."

"Fuck taking it easy, Hammerhead!" Russo said. "We crippled this fucker and maimed him and he came back! He's a fuckin' monster and he ain't gonna stop until we're all dead! You guys are fuckin' clueless!"

"Russo, you're losin' it!" Tombstone said in his whisper-like voice. "Shit, man, chill the fuck out."

Russo took some deep breaths. "Yeah, OK. Right. Take it easy. Easy. Everything's gonna be-"

The phone rang.

"Fuck." Russo said. "The Fratelli-Costas. Ok. Be cool. Ok. Ok."

Russo took another breath as he picked up."Hello?"

"Problems, Mr. Russo?" It was Rose Costa.

"Yes, we had some-"

"It's the pest, isn't it? We should have squashed when we had the chance. Can you contain the contamination?"

"It's pretty bad, a lot of wasted merchandise..."

"Find a way to contain it. Make sure it doesn't reach us."

"Yeah, sure, I-"

And she hung up. Russo hung up.

"Ok, Ok." Russo said. "Reinforce security here, at the tower. If we can't find him, at least we can stop him from getting us. But I ain't runnin'."

He got up. He was covered in sweat. He turned towards the armoured window.

"You hear me, Frankie! You hear me, motherfucker? I ain't runnin' from you any more! Ya want me, come and get me!"

VIGILANTES UNDERGROUND BASE

TWO WEEKS LATER

The Punisher was talking to his...troops, he had to call them.

They worked very well together. Maybe it was indeed time for something different. The lone wolf way could no longer cut it. Something to think about later.

"During last night's raids."Punisher started. "Widow managed to salvage some Intel about the Syndicate's remaining operations. I would like to end this Syndicate. Their operations. Their membership. Their leadership. We know where Russo is. A skyscraper in Manhattan, just like Fisk before him. I'd like to bring it all down in one shot."

Swan allowed himself a chuckle: "Christ, Frank. That fuckin' tower is probably better defended than the bloody Pentagon. How in the name of all that's holy do you plan on pulling that off?"

"Something I did in Japan, some time back." Castle said. "Simultaneous attacks on the syndicate's operations and at their HQ."

"Right." Swan said. "Why didn't I think of that? How daft of me!"

"The plan does sound a bit...ambitious, Castle." Moon Knight said.

"How did you pull it off last time?" Americop asked.

"I had almost 200 hundred people helping me." Castle said.

"We're...somewhat fewer than that, Frank." Night Thrasher stated.

"That can be overlooked." Castle said. He looked at Solitaire. Lone nodded.

"How?" Black Widow asked.

And The Punisher explained.


	9. Chapter 9

FEDERAL BUILDING MANHATTAN

TASK FORCE HQ

DAYTIME

USAgent, Battlestar, Cole and Agent Jones were in a conference room.

"Castle and friends have escalated their attacks. They've been all over the place." Jones said.

"Makes it hard to anticipate their next move." USAgent said.

"Not really.". Cole said.

"What do you mean?" Battlestar asked.

"They want Russo, right?" Cole said. "So we hang around that tower of his, and wait for The Punisher."

"Ugh." Jones said. "The idea of babysitting that bastard and his army of scumbags-"

"_Alleged_ bastard and _alleged_ army of scumbags." Cole said. "Besides, somebody else has to prove him guilty of all this shit. We are the vigilante task force. We're just here to nail Castle."

"Still makes me sick." Jones said. "Russo's been slick enough to escape the law for a good long while, but we know what he is and what he does."

"We have to let the..._system _work its charm, right?" Cole said.

"I still don't believe vigilantism is a solution. It's just a whole other problem." Jones said. "No matter how frustrating the system can be."

"Yeah. Whatever." Cole said.

"I've had to let some nasty people walk because of lack of evidence, but they get caught sooner or later." Jones said. "It takes work, but it can happen."

"Sure. If you say so." Cole said.

"You can't be that young and that cynical." Jones said.

"You read my file. You know why." Cole said.

"Your father, a decorated cop, framed and disgraced." Jones said. "And still serving time in jail. Until you and your own vigilante crew brought them down, the 66 Bridges had a hold on dozens of corrupt cops, government officials and politicians feeding off the death and misery in The Mog. I know all that, Kevin, but-"

"Look, never mind that, okay?" Cole said." We got a job to do. Let's nail Punisher and his accomplices, and we can all go home."

"Fine." Jones said. "All right. We should have some GUARDSMEN squads ready for fast intervention while we are within proximity of Russo's tower."

"Sounds like a plan." USAgent said.

"Ditto." Battlestar said.

"Let's get this done." Jones said.

* * *

THAT NIGHT 2358 hours

MANHATTAN, NEAR RUSSO'S TOWER

From his position, Castle could see Russo's tower.

There was probably massive security there. Possibly dozens of henchmen, plus several super-fucks.

And The Punisher was going to storm in alone.

The Punisher still had contacts in law enforcement, which in turn had contacts with people working for the city. He arranged to have many of the streets surrounding the tower closed down. The buildings were also all empty. Who knew what excuses were used, from termites to false Anthrax alarms.

One thing was certain. There would be no collateral damage.

He suspected that the Task Force would be here, waiting for him. He was ready for them, this time.

This strategy worked in Japan against the vampire Yakuzas. Hopefully, despite the smaller army, it would work this time as well.

The Punisher contacted the rest of his team.

"Rook to all Knights. Acknowledge." He said.

Solitaire, Night Thrasher and Firearm, nearby a Super-Syndicate drug plant responded.

Americop near a chop-shop responded.

Moon-Knight, near a warehouse full of contraband, responded.

Black Widow, Elektra and Tarantula were near the docks, where Syndicate shipments came and went, responded.

"T-minus one minute." Punisher stated.

The Punisher readied his gear. His mind needed to be void.

This was why he survived the ambush all those weeks ago. For this night.

There were a lot of innocent civilians that needed avenging. Lots of cops as well.

And two heroes. Daredevil and Spider-Man.

It was time. Midnight.

The Punisher was getting to work.

* * *

THE DOCKS:

Black Widow and Tarantula were positioned on opposite rooftops. Each holding a LAW rocket aimed at different trailer trucks which they knew carried drugs and weapons.

The twin explosions were deafening.

Dozens of henchmen were scrambling. Confused, blinded and knocked around by the blasts.

"Now what?" Tarantula asked Widow on her two way radio.

"Now, we watch Elektra work out her anger issues." Widow said.

At the ground level, holding her sais, looking at the big, strong, heavily armed thugs looking for a target, from her spot in the shadows...Elektra smiled.

And rushed them.

* * *

Midnight.

Americop put in a CD. Played track one.

Ram Jam's Black Betty.

Behind the face mask, Bart Gallows allowed himself a smile.

He drove his armoured, 50 caliber armed modified Hummer into the chop shop.

And he proceeded to his version of a massive citizen's arrest.

* * *

Moon Knight crashed through the warehouse's skylight, fingers full of his crescent shaped blades.

Before any of the thugs could raise their weapons, he threw his projectiles.

Six of them found six throats to be sunk in.

One of the fallen heavies had a Striker-12 automatic shotgun, his nearest late colleague had an Uzi. He picked up both weapons. Moon Knight was outnumbered and in a hurry, no time to be fancy.

As hired killers ran towards him, Marc Spector introduced them to Khonshu's Avatar Of Vengeance.

* * *

Alec Swan, Firearm, drove a modified armoured vehicle into the plant. An average looking Econoline van.

Solitaire and Night Thrasher were firing weapons from slits in the side panels.

M-60, 7.62mm Machine Guns.

"Special delivery, you shower of cunts!" Swan bellowed.

"Those Englishmen. So cool and classy." Thrasher said.

"Oh, quite, quite." Solitaire said.

* * *

From his office, Russo could feel it. The tension.

It was gonna happen. And pretty fuckin' soon.

Final collision between him and The Punisher.

And this time, it was gonna-

The phones started ringing. He already knew what it was. His stashes and plants being hit.

Fuckin' Frank Castle and his posse of fuckers they were-

Alarms got set off. He pushed a button on his desk and a small monitor raised.

A van.

Heading straight for the lobby.

Russo shook his head.

"Frank, Frank, Frank." He said aloud. "Subtle as ever. Completely blowing the element of surprise with this dumbfuck move. I expected more outta ya."

The van crashed through the front doors, through the front desk, into the wall near the elevators.

Within seconds, two dozen of his army of henchmen had the van surrounded.

"Russo to security. Report."

"The van is empty, boss."

"What do you mean-". Then realization cut him off."Oh, fuck, it's-"

The following second, he lost the picture and the whole building was shaken by an explosion.

Russo had to admit to himself that the blast was smaller than expected, still he wasted no time. He told his fellow bosses that in a situation like this that they were all to go to what he called The Panic Room. Basically, a vault/bunker at the first floor. There were enough weapons there to hold off an invasion.

On the way there, Russo couldn't help but smile. "Gettin' soft at your old age, Frankie. Building is still standing."

A couple of minutes later, Russo joined Tombstone, Owl and Hammerhead in the Panic Room.

They had monitors showing several hallways and the roof.

"This is it!" Hammerhead said. "Castle's knockin' at the door."

He was holding an old .45 Tommy Gun in each hand and a bullet proof vest.

Tombstone was holding a SPAS-12 automatic shotgun.

Owl had no weapons.

"He blew it." Russo said. "He shoulda nuked the fuckin' tower. Like he did in the 90s. If he's alone, he's totally fucked. He's gonna kill a lotta guys, but there's no way he can-"

"Hey." Tombstone said. "What the fuck-" He said pointing one of the monitors. The rooftop one.

"Is that...It can't be." Owl said. "He..."

Then they lost the rooftop picture. Another explosion.

There was a moment of silent horror. Then:

"Oh, fuck ME!" Russo said. "FUCK ME!"

* * *

The Punisher figured there would be heavy duty defences at the tower.

So, he brought heavy duty offense.

Another gift some Solitaire and his group of super-scientists.

A modified version of something that resembled a War Machine armour. It came from Ultra-Tech, the company Lone unofficially bought his special weapons from.

All black.

On his right shoulder, a 30mm Mini-Gun, loaded with depleted uranium rounds. On his left shoulder, a multiple mini-rocket launcher.

Belt-fed 50 calibre wrist guns. He had cylindrical ammo boxes on his hips.

Skull shaped helmet. Skull emblem on the chest.

All systems, check.

All right, there was a lot to be done.

The Punisher had to get to it.


	10. Chapter 10

The Punisher decided to attack from the roof after his ground floor diversion attack. The remote-controlled van packed with explosives took out some of the opposition, but it was far from over.

The now armoured vigilante demolished the rooftop simply by flying through it.

He was greeted by Chance, flying towards him.

Chance, a well known assassin, equipped with boot jets, wrist-mounted laser blasters and missile launchers, a helmet who was also his targeting system.

Chance fired his lasers. They did no damage to The Punisher's armour.

Castle fired a single 50 cal bullet at Chance's face. It exploded like a ripe tomato.

One down.

A dozen armed thugs, in full body armour, carrying assault rifles showed up.

Castle let loose his left hand wrist gun in full auto. A mix of explosive and adamantium rounds. The barrage of large, high velocity rounds destroyed the small squad of henchmen, reducing them to wet heaps of boneless ground meat.

Metallic coils-two of them-wrapped themselves around The Punisher. The assailant was behind Castle.

The coils seemed unbreakable. Not even the suit's strength enhancing capabilities could break them.

The Punisher's shoulder cannon did a 180-the small optical device in the cannon allowed Castle to see Constrictor-fired a short burst of 30mm deplete uranium rounds.

Constrictor's upper body exploded in a shower of gore. The coils relinquished their hold on Castle.

Then, there was an explosion on the armour's chest plate. And another. And another, sending the Skull Bearing Death Bringer through a solid marble wall.

The armour was made of stern stuff. It was slightly damaged, there were warnings of armour integrity being compromised, but it was already self-repairing.

The Punisher got back to his feet and saw his latest adversaries.

Taskmaster, Boomerang and Bushwhacker. Bushwhacker's arm was shaped like a 40mil grenade launcher. The others must have used explosive projectiles, arrows and boomerangs.

Taskmaster let loose another explosive arrow, as Boomerang threw another specialty boomerang.

The armour's boot jets allowed Castle to dodge the onslaught and fire one of his shoulder mounted missiles. His target was Bushwhacker. While the mercenary was blown to bits of flesh and bone, he strafed Taskmaster and Boomerang with the 30 mil shoulder cannon.

The suit was still self repairing, almost reaching optimal-

Proximity alert. Something massive rapidly approaching-

Rhino burst through a wall and connected with Castle, sending him flying.

On the other side of the Punisher's fall, another massive man had just appeared.

Mr. Hyde.

He caught Castle's armoured ankle and hit the floor with it, smashing a hole right through, and sending the Armoured Vigilante a floor below, into what resembled a conference room. Castle landed through a solid oak table.

Dazed, Castle got back as Hyde jumped through the hole the ceiling, letting out a savage growl.

The Punisher rose both his arms and fired both his wrist guns, sending fully automatic bursts of 50 calibre adamantium rounds and explosive rounds into the falling monster. Bullets smacked muscle and bone, and finally the cranium was hit.

Hyde was dead when his perforated corpse hit the ground in a very loud thump.

Still holding his wrist guns up, smoking, Castle expected Rhino to follow.

He didn't. Not even Rhino was that dumb.

The door to the conference room Castle was in exploded. And an armoured figure stood in the doorway.

Stuart Clarke. Rampage.

Stark level armour and weapons. Ultra-hard helmet. Which left the lower half of his face unprotected.

"Impressive suit." Clarke said. "However, I-"

Castle fired a single .50 cal round in Clarke's mouth, blowing out the back of his skull. The armoured villain fell on his back. Dead.

"Should have worn a full face plate." Castle finished.

The wall next to the doorway exploded and Rhino came charging in. Behind him were Scorpion and Jack O'Lantern.

The Punisher quickly moved out of Rhino's way, bent down slightly, grabbed one of Rhino's legs with both hands and swung him, like an Olympic athlete would throw the hammer. Right a Scorpion and Jack O'Lantern. Both were crushed against a wall by the unwilling missile.

Then, Castle walked over to the dazed Rhino and fired a burst of 50 cal in his face.

The Punisher walked out of the destroyed room and into a barrage of automatic fire.

The Enforcers. Bullseye. Firing assault rifles at him.

They were probably using some sort of armour piercing bullets, but it was doing no damage to the suit.

A few dozen 30 mil slugs solved that problem. He took out Fancy Dan, Montana and Bullseye. They became witching, bloody hamburger.

Not Ox. Castle spared OX. Apparently.

Ox bellowed wildly and ran towards The Punisher ready to land a blow.

The Punisher met Ox's fist with his own, shattering every bone in Ox's hand. Then, a punch to the face. Castle's armoured fist went through Ox's face and out the back of Ox's skull, killing him instantly.

Much more merciful than Ox's breaking of Castle's spine. And more permanent. Spines could be fixed.

Right forearm covered in gore, The Punisher went on.

He still hadn't found his primary targets. The bosses of this Cartel. Owl. Hammerhead. Tombstone. Jigsaw.

He used the armours' scanners. There was nothing alive on the floor he was in. Or any of the floors below.

At one of the lower floors, however, there seemed to be something blocking his scans.

Like a large vault.

Or a panic room. A secure place for people who needed to hide.

Like Jigsaw and company.

The Punisher, using his jet boots, took off a few metres off the floor and flew through the nearest window all the down to where he'd spotted the vault.

There it was. A huge vault door.

Solid steel.

He took a few steps back and fired all of the remaining missiles into the vault door, blowing it wide open.

More automatic fire came out at him, bouncing harmlessly off his suit.

Tombstone, Hammerhead and Jigsaw firing at him. Owl didn't have a weapon.

He leapt at Castle, revealing long, metallic talons. A 50 cal in the forehead ended his attack.

Tombstone and Hammerhead went empty. Tombstone also had his head removed by 50 cal as Hammerhead ran towards Castle. The Punisher extended his right hand, catching Hammerhead's metallic skull and ripped it off and tossed it over his shoulder.

That left only Jigsaw.

"Well, well, Frankie." Russo said. "It's down to you and me, huh? Nice suit, by the way. I mean, shit, of course, if you were gonna take my tower, you had to bring enough hardware. A fuckin' Iron Man suit. Jesus, Frank, you never cease to amaze, huh? Always resourceful."

The Punisher walked towards Russo and rose his right hand wrist gun.

"Come on, Frankie. After all this time, all we been through, you don't have a few words for your ol' buddy, huh? No even a-"

"Russo."

"What?"

"Shut up and die."

Castle fired a single 50 cal in Russo's face, destroying his arch enemy's features for the last time. The headless corpse fell down like broken puppet.

It was over, it was-

Incoming. Something was-

A very hard object struck Castle's helmet with incredible force.

Then, he was shaken by small explosions. Someone was using explosive ammo and-

Again, he was hit hard in the head.

And more HE ammo and he went down.

He looked at his newest assailants.

The Task Force. USAgent, Battlestar, Cole and Agent Jones.

Agent Jones was holding a very serious looking futuristic rifle. Probably SHIELD issue, Stark made. "Give it up, Castle. It's over." She said.

The suit was damaged. But the auto repair nanotech was already active.

"You war ends now, Castle." Jones said. "You won't shoot us, your suit's s messed up. Surrender."

Jones's shooting had been strategic: she shot off both of Castle's shoulder mounted weapons. Smart. Smarter than all the super-fucks Castle just wasted. And whatever that gun was loaded with was enough to cause the suit some real damage.

"Frank," USAgent said. "Come quietly. This doesn't have to be harder than it is."

"When did _you_ become the voice of reason, Walker?" Castle asked.

"I've come a long way since we last met." Agent said with half a smile. "Still got a temper, still like a good fight. But I've evolved. And I don't wanna fight you. I know where's your comin' from. But it's over now."

"Yeah." Castle said. "I guess that after you arrest me, you have to arrest Cole, right? Mr. White Tiger is a vigilante after all."

Cole seemed surprised, but not shocked.: "Hey, how the Hell did you know-"

Jones: "Stow it, Cole. That's not important right-"

Castle: "Good job on the 66 Bridges, kid."

Cole: "Stop that shit, Castle."

Castle: "If I know, you gotta wonder who else knows. Makes you wonder how safe your family is."

Cole, slightly agitated: "Shut up!"

Castle: "I don't threaten families, Cole. But others do. What happened to me in the park could happen to you."

Cole: "Man, I told you-"Cole started said advancing on Castle.

Jones, who had her eye on Castle the whole time, lost her focus for one second. "Damn it, Cole-"

Battlestar and Agent were distracted by Cole's outbursts.

There would be no better time.

The skull emblem on Castle's chest plate lit up and shot a laserbeam-much like Iron Man's unibeam-at Jones rifle and cut it in two, without harming Jones.

USAgent and Battlestar wasted no time and wanted to ram The Punisher, shield first. Castle activated the boot jets and jumped over their heads. They expected to connect, instead they almost ran into each other. During that second of confusion, Castle touched down almost immediately and hit them both behind the head with reverse punches. They both went down, out cold.

Cole went at Castle. He had claws coming out of his fingers. He must have been wearing the White Tiger suit beneath his clothes. Those claws were part of his outfit. And were vibranium.

Cole was fast. He tagged Castle a couple of times. Then, Castle parried a strike with a forearm, grabbed Cole's wrist, have him a gentle head butt and threw him at Jones. They both went down in heap.

Time to go.

The Punisher took off and flew away from the tower. He spotted what had to be Jones car-a SHIELD hovercar. He shot it a few times in the engine and flew away.

Another close call, one of many with that group, Castle felt it.

But the primary mission was a success: destroy the Super-Syndicate. Kill Russo.

But it wasn't over yet.


	11. Chapter 11

While in flight, Castle touched base with his allies.

They all hit their designated targets and were successful in surviving and not being caught.

The armour was designed for stealth as well. Not detectable by radar. It was also cloaked, almost totally invisible to the naked eye.

He flew back to HQ un-noticed.

Soon, he was reunited with his partners.

He took off the helmet.

"Good work." He told them.

"Likewise, old boy." Alec Swan answered.

"There's one last target to hit." The Punisher said. "She's mine."

They all knew who he meant.

"But before I go, I have a proposition for all of you." Castle said.

Americop. Moon Knight. Night Thrasher. Solitaire. Firearm. Tarantula. Elektra. Black Widow. They all listened.

And they gave their answers.

TWO DAYS LATER

PALERMO, SICILY

The Fratelli estate was magnificent. Regal. Near the sea. And well protected.

Rose Fratelli was in her study.

Rose Fratelli born Rose Costa had already learned the news of Russo's demise. The extermination of his army and destruction of his organisation. She reinforced security.

That animal, The Punisher, could show up any minute.

That psychopath killed her family. Deliberately murdered Bruno and Francesco Costa. All because of some misunderstanding in Central Park.

Since, Rose Costa moved back to Sicily, changed her name and slowly begun her ascension to become the leader of the top criminal enterprise in all of Europe.

Her niece and nephew, Bruno and Francesca, were well versed in the art of assassination. Trained by the best, they were the reason there were never any witnesses to testify against her. Many judges, prosecutors and their families have also been eliminated.

But all that was threatened by that motherless sack of-

The house was soon shaken by explosions.

Her helicopter exploded.

Her marina exploded along with her boats.

The garage exploded.

Bruno and Francesca entered her study, panicked, pistols in hand:

"Aunt Rosa, we're being attacked." Bruno said.

"It's him, isn't it." Francesca said. "It's the Punisher!"

Then it was gunfire. Relentless automatic fire. Screams of agony. Vile cusses.

War.

Death.

Not one of Rosa Costa's enemies dared to attack her at her own home.

For endless minutes, the sounds of war pounded the three Costas.

Then the solid oak doors exploded into toothpicks.

And there he stood. Dressed in black. A white skull on his chest. A large automatic weapon in each hand. Covered in her henchmen's blood.

The Punisher.

She stood up defiantly.

"So..." She said. "You've come to finish what you started. The destruction of my family."

"Your _family_ slaughtered mine. Without reason."

"Your family's death was an unfortunate accident! While you-"

His hard face-but, younger looking or were her eyes deceiving her-got even colder. As his voice.

"An unfortunate accident."

Bruno and Francesca rose her pistols. Before they could fire, they took bullets in their shoulders. And went down, injured.

"Sicily's Death Angels." The Punisher said. "No one has been able to convict you for the deaths of dozens of witnesses and law enforcement people you've murdered to build your empire. The police couldn't touch any of you."

He calmly walked towards the Costas.

"Thirty years ago, I could only watch as you people destroyed my life." The Punisher said. "I should let you know, I worked hard to return the favour."

Rosa Costa was confused: "What do you mean?"

"Your boy Russo...He got ambitious. He almost won. Among his victims, there was SHIELD. You know, the super-spy organisation. They got word of your involvement, your backing of Russo. They were very interested in avenging the hundreds of dead agents killed by Russo's gang. The European branches are currently dismantling your outfit. All of your operations, legal and illegal, are being trashed. All of your bribed cops and judges, being killed or exposed. As we speak."

Her phone began to ring. Along with many untraceable cell phones. He wasn't lying.

She was trembling with rage. "You...you..."

She grabbed a paper cutter and rushed Castle in a fit of insane anger. She crumbled, her knees shattered by bullets.

"I didn't travel all the way over here only to kill you." Castle said. "I want you to feel what it's like to have everything taken from you. To have life stop making sense because you crossed paths with the wrong people. To have everything you worked hard in getting destroyed on some bastard's whim."

He paused. "And to watch those you hold dear butchered before your eyes."

Rose screamed. "No. Please, nooo-"

And she watched her niece and nephew be strafed by automatic fire.

Rosa lost her mind with hate and grief. She screamed and sobbed. For a few minutes.

"Besides your hatred for me, and the pain of the loss." Castle said. "What you're feeling now is guilt. You brought them into your world. And now, those two young and beautiful people are cold meat. I squeezed the trigger, but you killed them by making them like you and your brothers."

Her pain was infinite. In a small moment of clarity, she realized he was right. They were full of promise and she made them into instruments of death.

"But, Rose Costa." Castle continued. "I will grant you one mercy that was denied to me that day in the park. I will give you a quick death. You won't spend decades in a cold, dark empty hell of grief and pain. "

And her head exploded.

* * *

The Punisher exhaled after killing The Last Of The Costas.

This battle was over.

Time to go home.


	12. Chapter 12

**EPILOGUE**

THE NEXT DAY

NEW YORK CITY

This was a new beginning.

After years of fighting an uphill battle against gang created chaos, Castle decided to take a page from the book of super-geeks.

He created a team.

More exactly an army.

No headquarters. No secret passwords. But a group of vigilantes willing to pool their resources together to give the streets back to the people of New York City. A network of shadow warriors.

A guerrilla.

That was what he asked to his allies before leaving for Sicily.

Firearm declined. He longed for boring infidelity cases after this gig. He wished Castle luck and went back to Pasadena.

Americop declined. Said it was both an honour and a pleasure to work with The Punisher. But Houston had plenty of scum to keep him busy. And fewer vigilantes to do it. Castle understood.

Black Widow declined. She said she was more spy than vigilante. She wanted to help out Fury and SHIELD rebuild their New York branches.

The rest accepted.

Solitaire said that New York was as good a place as any to settle and do what he was destined to do. Smash evil and hope to rid himself of his father's karma.

Night Thrasher-who'd lost Silhouette, his girlfriend in the One Police Plaza blast-also accepted.

Moon Knight as well.

Tarantula as well.

And so did Elektra, much to everyone's surprise. Daredevil was one of the best men she'd ever met. He saw the good in her despite everything. He believed in justice and fairness. Perhaps being a guardian instead of an assassin would bring her closer to truly understanding him. And honouring him as well.

The Punisher suggested they each took a section of the city. That neighbourhood or borough would be under their watch, much like the late Daredevil watched over Hell's Kitchen.

Elektra decided to watch over Hell's Kitchen.

Solitaire, Night Thrasher and Moon Knight would split Manhattan.

Tarantula would take the Bronx.

And The Punisher would cover mostly Brooklyn.

They would all work together should a larger threat arrive. But for small fry, they could each keep to their "assigned" sector.

No handshake. No oath. No battle cry. Just the promise to protect or avenge the innocent.

And Punisher the guilty.

And they quickly got to work.

THE END.


End file.
